


Dexterity

by Archer973



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer973/pseuds/Archer973
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint blames it on the vodka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dexterity

Clint blames it on the vodka. And that stupid game of truth or dare. But mostly on the vodka. It started out tame enough, just him, Stark, and Cap sitting around having a friendly drink one night at the Tower. Rogers has that super-soldier serum going for him, Stark's been a functioning alcoholic since he was thirteen, and Clint… well, Clint grew up in the circus, so between the three of them they had already put away a bottle of vodka and were starting on a second when Tony comes up with a brilliant suggestion: truth or dare.

Clint was going to blow him off, but when Steve remarked that he had never played before, Clint joined Tony in demanding that he participate. Looking back, Clint knew that it was a bad idea, but at the time the amount of vodka swimming through his veins happily assured him that nothing could go wrong.

It started off simple enough: Clint was forced to dance around the room singing "Ring Around the Rosie" (a hilarious sight due to the fact that he was so inebriated that he could barely stand up straight) while Tony admitted to having worn ladies underwear before. It all came to head, however, when Steve, upon having to give Clint a dare, told him to stand on one leg for thirty seconds.

"No, no, no, Cap, you're doing it all wrong!" Tony exclaimed, his words slurring slightly as he gestured wildly with an almost empty bottle of Grey Goose at the confused Captain America. "You gotta pick something embarrassing! It's no fun if you don't make it at least a little sexual. Here, let me show you: Hawkeye, I dare you to take a picture of your penis and send it to Natasha Romanov."

Steve immediately turned bright red and started spluttering, but Clint, having had just enough alcohol to make this seem like a fantastic idea, immediately started fumbling at the fastening of his pants, seemingly ignoring the fact that two of his male teammates were sitting on either side of him as he whipped out his dick, snapped a picture of it on his phone, and sent it to the Black Widow along with the message "i dont mind gettin my hed rippd off as lon as i can hav sexx furst".

"Atta boy, Hawk, you tap dat ass," Tony said, laughing and clapping him on the shoulder. Clint chuckled in response and took another long swig from the bottle. He was starting to feel really hot by now.

"You're turn, Cap," he said, tugging at his shirt collar and contemplating taking it off. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Steve said after a moment of consideration, still extremely red in the face. Clint thought hard for a moment, trying to think up a really good question for their blushing leader.

"Have you ever had sex with someone, and if so who?" he finally asked, figuring he should ease Rogers into the world of dirty questions. Steve immediately flushed so deep red that Clint wasn't sure there was any blood left anywhere else in his body.

"Yes," he mumbled, quickly taking another swing from his bottle.

"Who?" Tony demanded when it became evident that Steve wasn't going to answer the second part of the question without prompting. Steve fidgeted in his seat, refusing to look at either of his teammates. "Out with it, man!"

"Bucky, alright, it was Bucky!" Steve finally yelled, looking up to glare at the other two. Tony choked on his mouthful of alcohol and coughed violently.

"Bucky, as in your very male friend Bucky who you served with in the army?" Tony managed to gasp out while Clint just sat there and stared. He had been expecting the captain to deny sleeping with anyone, or at the very least say it was Peggy, the girl he'd been in love with before he ended up as a chunk of ice for seventy years. He had not been expecting America's hero to admit to having sexual relations with another guy.

"Woo, way to go, Captain!" Stark exclaimed when Steve nodded his head in answer to his question, reaching over and clapping the other man on the shoulder. "I am thoroughly impressed. From what I've seen in the packets, Bucky was one hot piece of ass." Steve looked at the other man, confused, as if he didn't know why he wasn't being shunned yet, before slowly nodding his head in agreement.

"What about you, Hawk? Straight, gay, or somewhere in between?" Tony asked, looking at Clint, who took another swig from his bottle.

"Guy, girl, doesn't matter, if I find them attractive then they're fair game," he said, shrugging. Tony grinned, a glint coming into his eye that Clint knew meant something was about to go down.

"So, if you had to choose between me and Captain Popsicle over there to sleep with, who would you pick?" Tony asked, his grin turning into a smirk. Clint looked at him, weighing his options.

"You mean I have to choose?" Clint replied, matching Tony's smirk with a grin of his own. Tony's eyes darkened and Clint could see the fabric of his pants starting to strain. He glanced over at Steve. The blond was sitting there watching the two of them, pupils blown wide with lust, hand clenched in a tight fist.

Clint didn't know how it happened, but suddenly he was straddling Steve's lap, tongue in his mouth while Tony pressed against him, hand grapping his hip, and sucked on his neck. Steve was too stunned to move at first, but then he was fisting his hand in Clint's hair and pulling him closer, the other hand snaking around the archer's body to grab Tony by the front of his shirt and pull him up next to Clint. It was all a mass of hot mouths, strong bodies, and groping hands.

That was how Clint found himself on his knees giving Captain America and Iron Man simultaneous hand jobs. Clint smirked to himself as his twisted his fists, applying just the right amount of pressure to pull curse words from Tony and throaty moans from Steve. Clint's years in the circus were serving him well. He loved being ambidextrous. That was how he was able to bring both the men to their climax simultaneously, leaving them sagging in their chairs gasping for breath.

Clint let himself fall back onto the floor and wrap his hand around his own forgotten member. He managed to get in a few good strokes before a warm, callused hand stopped him. Clint opened his eyes and found himself looking to the face of Tony Stark.

"My turn," the billionaire playboy said, wrap his own hand around Clint's dick. Clint let out a gasp of pleasure as Tony began stroking him, fingers hitting all the right spots. He felt a warm, solid mass slide in behind him. He opened his eyes just long enough to look into Steve's eyes before Tony's clever hands brought him to his climax.

He slumped back, exhausted, as the waves of pleasure continued to rippled through him. Steve held him as they both leaned back, the floor making a perfectly acceptable bed at that moment. Tony crawled forward and collapsed beside them. Clint reached out and let one of his hands rest on Tony's muscled side before the world swam and faded to black around him.

Clint's head was throbbing. It felt like the Hulk was beating on his skull with Thor's hammer. Whimpering, Clint slowly opened one eye, only to find himself face-to-face with a very unimpressed looking Natasha Romanov. He groaned, closing the eye and burying his head in his pillow.

"You're not here," he mumbled, hoping against hope that it was just a figment of his imagination.

"Yes, I am. Now stop being a coward and wake up," Natasha said, her voice even, thought Clint could here just a hint of affectionate exasperation in it.

"I am awake," Clint groused, though his words were mostly lost in his pillow.

"You're not awake until you open both your eyes, sit up, and take these aspirin," Natasha countered, the exasperation becoming more evident. Clint debated just keeping his eyes closed and hoping she'd go away, but he knew Tasha. She'd drag his sorry ass out of bed and make him go train with her if he didn't listen to her. So, slowly and with much head holding and whimpering, Clint sat up and opened his eyes just wide enough to take the two pills she was holding out and the glass of water.

"What the hell happened last night?" he asked after managing to choke down the aspirin, cradling his head in his hands.

"Well," Natasha began, pulling out her phone. "Seeing as I have a message from you stating that you, and I quote, 'don't mind getting my head ripped off as long as I can have sex first', along with a picture of your penis and a text message from Stark asking if I would be interested in having an orgy, not to mention the fact that I found you, Stark, and Rogers all passed out in various stages of undress together with copious amounts of bodily fluids and vodka bottles surrounding you, I would say that you, Tony, and Steve all got really drunk and fooled around together."

"Shit," Clint said after everything she had said sunk in. This was going to be so awkward. How the hell was he ever going to look Cap or Stark in the face again? Clint looked up at Natasha, who was gazing at him with that it's-your-own-damn-fault look he knew so well.

"I blame it on the vodka."


End file.
